


Bonded

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fetish, Fluff, Handcuffs, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex Toys, Smut, Spanking, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:23:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7346872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark has given his everything to Kian, which is way more inconvenient than he'd expected, because that includes his ability to orgasm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonded

Dating Kian Egan was seriously fucking inconvenient.

That wasn't to say that Mark didn't love doing it. It was maybe his favourite thing. He'd sort of had a go with other lads in the past and it had been alright, but there was something about Kian that was so blatantly opposite to him that fit in all the right ways.

His particular kinks had always been a peripheral thing. People liked that sort of stuff, of course they did. A bit of a spank, maybe some handcuffs or whatever – that was the sort of thing that kept sex shops in business. Because who didn't like being held down occasionally or tied up? It wasn't until Kian that he'd discovered that his own proclivities weren't so much a fun kink as a full-blown fetish.

Because shit, he liked having Kian own him.

It was funny. He'd known Kian was driven, a bit controlling at the best of times, and he wouldn't exactly have called himself a wilting flower. He wasn't going around being a submissive suck-up to everyone he met, wasn't stabbing himself to feel pain or anything over-the-top like that. But when they'd started dating after about five odd years of sort of kind of flirting but not really because it's not like we're gay, ha ha ha, no way, god but wouldn't it be funny if we were... It had just been nice. Dinners and movies and pretty decent sex. Really nice sex.

But it hadn't been...

Then one day Kian had slapped a hand down on Mark's arse and shit, that was the stuff. And over the course of the next twenty minutes he'd been spanked so thoroughly he'd not sat properly for a week, Kian's face intense and flushed while Mark had writhed madly on the bed, crying out and grinding into the sheets and feeling like his whole world had shrunk to the hot, sharp brand of Kian's hand on his backside.

There'd been bits and pieces after that. Maybe Kian had held him down harder, scraped nails down his back, and then there'd been little things. Little commands and little orders that Mark had almost fallen over himself to obey. He didn't know why. He thought maybe it should be embarrassing, how much he wanted to do what Kian told him, how much he wanted that hand on the back of his neck, holding his face into the pillow while he was being slammed from behind, not wanting the feeling of Kian controlling him to ever go away, because he was controlling the way he _felt_ and it was just every shade of pleasure. Every lit and tortured nerve ending firing at once while he blissed out into the knowledge that he belonged to Kian in a way that was less about the way Kian called him a slut and more about the way soft kisses would suck to the nape of his neck while he was laying in a pool of his own desperate, forced release, hands slowly soothing him down while he trembled on the bed, wrapped up in the man he loved.

He'd had a look online. His porn selections had always been fairly consistent with this sort of thing, but that was just porn. Nobody expected ten inch cocks and two hour erections to be just falling from the sky, but he'd looked sideways and discovered that maybe he wasn't that weird after all. That maybe, in some strange way, he had all the power, and so they'd finally begun to talk about what the hell they were doing.

So yeah, he was a sub. Kian was a dom. Their safe word was _Spaceship_ , because they'd been watching Independence Day at the time and it sounded funny. And after that it had just sort of... blossomed. Like this was the thing both of them had been waiting for all their lives without realising it. This odd, perfect dynamic that wasn't about Kian being abusive or possessive, but about security and love and ownership and some pretty excellent fucking sex.

Kian controlling him was bloody brilliant. Controlling his pleasure, his pain. Everything, even down to the sounds he made. His orgasms.

Which was bloody inconvenient because now Mark had discovered that he couldn't bloody come without Kian letting him.

It was fucking Pavlovian. After a year or so of 'not yet' and 'when I say' and 'come for me' and 'now' he couldn't make his brain kick in and let it happen. Which he'd discovered when Kian had been away for a few days with a family thing and Mark had figured there wasn't much harm in having a bit of a wank in the shower. It wasn't like Kian would mind. Well, he might, but Mark would get to take great pleasure in telling him all about it when he got home and then getting pretty summarily punished for the whole process. Which was a nice thought to take into the shower when he was planning on wanking anyway.

He'd stood there for fifteen fucking minutes, yanking on an erection that was getting more desperate and painful by the second, and not been able to do it. Had been circling the fence of his orgasm and not been able to find the bloody gate.

So he'd towelled off, flopped back on the bed and waited until it had gone away, feeling so fucking frustrated he didn't know what to do with himself.

The next day Kian had gotten home, laughed himself stupid, and then helped him finish off with a firm hand and soft, biting kisses on his throat.

And now he was laid on the couch, Mark between his legs and head on a warm, broad chest, eating popcorn and watching TV.

Fingers carded gently through his hair while Mark listened to a strong heartbeat more than the dialogue on the television, which was pretty standardly crap for a midday sitcom rerun.

“Kian?”

“Yes, pet?”

Mark smiled, snuggling into Kian's chest. He loved when Kian called him that, marking ownership with little endearments. Fingers stroked around the curve of his ear, then down his neck, touching him affectionately.

“That website's having a sale. The one we got the anal beads from?”

“Are they?” A kiss brushed his forehead. “Is there something you wanted?”

“Not really. Just thought I'd let you know in case you did.”

“That's really thoughtful. Thank you.” Another kiss alighted on his hair. “Such a good boy.”

“Mmm...” Mark shivered, nuzzling into the soft fabric of Kian's shirt. “I liked the beads.”

“I know you did,” Kian murmured. “You were so beautiful taking them. Spreading open while I pulled them back out. Your gorgeous, sexy little hole.” Hot breath brushed over his ear. Kian was good at that, saying filthy things. It was one of Mark's favourite things, having Kian restrain him and quietly tell him everything he was about to do, getting Mark on edge before he'd even been touched, his skin on fire with anticipation. “If you're good, maybe I can get you a present.”

“Only if you think I deserve one.”

“I think you do.” His chin was tugged up with one gentle finger and lips barely touched his mouth in a kiss. “What would you like?”

“Dunno...” His laptop was on the coffee table so he tugged it over, rolling onto his back and opening it up, nestling into Kian's front. Hands linked around his stomach, holding him in. A few clicks later and he found the site. Kian looked over his shoulder, pointing at subcategories and making soft encouraging sounds.

“How about one of those?” He pointed at a buttplug that curved forward until a cock-ring was attached to the front. “That looks fun.”

“Mmm...” Mark shrugged. “We have those things separately, though. Bit of a waste of money.”

“True.” A kiss brushed his neck. “I like that plug though.” It was a nice one, about four inches, thick and bulging at intervals along its length. “You'd look so beautiful wearing that, begging me to fuck you.”

“Begging?” Mark snorted. “I never beg.”

“Liar.” His shoulder was nipped teasingly. “I should punish you.”

“How would you do that?” His only reply was a hoarse, promising laugh, rumbling against his back while he shivered. Another kiss sucked gently at the shell of his ear. “Add to cart?”

“Add to cart.” Kian agreed. Mark obeyed, clicking through pages at leisure, pausing every now and then for Kian to look at something. The cart was filling up fairly rapidly and he could feel slight stiffness in the small of his back as Kian's eyes devoured the array of options. He clicked through the restraint cuffs, laughing when Kian teased him by snuffling into the back of his ear.

“Chastity cages?”

“Why would I want you to keep this locked away?” A hand squeezed him gently. “No. New flogger?”

“Hmmm...” Mark shrugged. “Fleshlight?”

“If you want.” Kian nodded. “Something for if I'm away? Get you through the long cold nights?”

“It's not the same though.” He sighed theatrically. Heard a soft laugh. Fingers stroked gently over his chest. “I can't without you here.”

“Poor thing.” The laptop was closed and lifted away to settle on the coffee table. Mark looked around, smiled when a gentle kiss touched his cheek. “It's sort of hot that you need me that much.”

“It's sort of frustrating,” Mark sighed. “I used to be able to whack one out all the time and now I can't. I mean, it's romantic in one way, I guess, but it's not great when I wake up with morning wood or something and just want to take care of it.”

“I'll take care of it for you.” Kian grinned, kissing his cheek again. “Let me know. I'm always happy to help.”

“Yeah, but it's...” He smiled, turning sideways so he could lay his head on Kian's shoulder, his forehead pressed into the older boy's neck. “It's kind of nice, you know? You own me. You own that. But... I guess at the same time I sort of worry that maybe I don't exist any more. Not without you.”

“Of course you do.” Fingers stroked his shoulder. “It hurts how much you exist. That's why I want you. You're stunning, pet. Totally perfect.” A hand tilted his face up. “You own me, not the other way around. I'd tattoo your name on my arse if I could.”

“Please don't,” Mark laughed, though the idea sent a slight thrill through him. They'd discussed something like that, maybe a collar, but it was too difficult to get away with wearing every day without inconvenient questions. He did have a ring on his right hand that Kian had given him, a black band with a heart engraved on the inside, but that was more a general token of affection than a sign of ownership. “I love you,” he murmured, snuggling back into Kian's shoulder.

“Love you too.” A kiss touched his hair. “Mine.”

Mark sighed happily, sinking into warm arms.

 

*

 

“Hello, love.” Words breathed over Mark's ear while fingers trailed up the insides of his thighs. The handcuffs were reasonably comfortable, padded with soft fabric. His shoulders sort of burned, though. They'd been held up like this for what had to be over half an hour, ever since Kian had secured him to head of the bed and left him there with nothing on but the new cock-ring/plug combo they'd found online. “Look how hard you are.”

Mark whimpered, trying to stay as still as possible. Kian had returned a few minutes ago. Not that Mark could see, not with the blindfold over his eyes. It had been torture, left blind and vulnerable, not knowing if or when Kian was going to return, not even knowing how long it had been. The tension getting more delicious when he'd heard footsteps come back into the room, pause, and then drift back out again, the burn of eyes on him making his skin prickle.

Then fingers had tickled gently up the soles of his feet and he'd had to bit his lip to stop himself falling apart.

“I'm going to touch you,” Kian said quietly. “Can you guess where?”

Mark swallowed, his lips parting as he tried to figure out whether he was supposed to reply or not. A kiss brushed his cheek.

“You get three guesses,” he murmured. “And if you guess wrong I'm going to punish you. Yes?” Mark nodded in reply. “First guess?”

“I...” Mark closed his eyes behind the blindfold, trying to think where Kian would be most likely to touch. Cock was too obvious, and Kian would never start there, not if he was trying to draw this out. Same with his arse. “My stomach,” he decided.

There was a few moments of silence and then he felt a hand caress his belly. “Here? That's what you said?”

“I was wrong.”

“You were.” The hand lifted off and then slapped down hard. He let out a surprised yelp, his cry mingling with the hollow sound of the impact. Then it began to sting, heat spreading through him as Kian's hand began to slowly rub the spot, soothing it. “Guess again.”

The hand lifted away. He was trying not to move too much, the torture of the plug shifting when he did too much to deal with. He was painfully hard, throbbing in the cock ring, the feeling getting more intense as the heat and pain began to bleed down into his groin. He bit his lip, trying to think.

“My...” It was too hard to think. Too much. “My leg."

“Your leg?” Fingers touched his knee, began to smooth up his thigh, tickling as the hairs were pushed in the wrong direction, thumbs pressing in until they were almost... _almost_ brushing the base of the plug. He whimpered, biting back a moan when fingers tickled just below his balls. They were beyond tight, wrenching hard up against the base of his cock and almost painful with need. One leg was tugged out, his knee flopping outwards while a hand caressed soft, sensitive skin. “Wrong.”

The swat took him by surprise and he cried out, felt the sting of a palm on virgin flesh, his sudden jolt shifting the plug. It was too much. Too full. Too hard. The pain trickling in to settle into his pulsing erection, trapped there by the ring that seemed to be getting tighter with every moment.

“Kian...” he gasped. “I...”

“Shhh...” The voice was right next to his ear. “Take a deep breath, pet. I've got you.”

“Yes.” He dutifully sucked one in, listening to Kian softly murmur encouragement in his ear. But not touch him. No. Not yet. He let the breath go, heard a low snicker that was somehow more intense than the physical torture. “I'm okay.”

“You're lovely. Look how hard you are,” Kian whispered. “You're so hard, baby. Do you feel it? You're all red and swollen. It must be hell.” Mark nodded, heard another teasing laugh. “How far could I push you, do you think? Until you _have_ to come. What if I told you weren't allowed? Not today. No matter what I did to you. Would you come anyway?”

The whine that poured from his mouth next was embarrassing in how desperate it was. A kiss touched his ear.

“Why don't we see?” Kian urged. “You said you need me to make you come, so let's find out. Third guess?”

Mark sucked in another breath. All day? They'd only just started. It was barely eleven in the morning. They'd gotten up, had a light breakfast, and then there'd been a knock at the door and before he knew it Kian was coming back in with a discreetly wrapped parcel with their address on it, his eyebrow cocked.

“Don't keep me waiting, sweetheart.” Kian's voice pulled him from his thoughts. “I'll get impatient.”

“Sorry.” Mark chewed his lip. “My... my nipples?” He winced. If he was wrong, this was probably going to hurt. If he was right, though...

There was a deep, mournful sigh, and then the bed rolled as Kian's weight lifted off it. He heard a zip being pulled somewhere, though whether it was opening or closing he couldn't be sure. A second later fingers stroked through his hair.

“Oh, love,” Kian babied. A second hand drifted over his chest and he gasped as something cold and hard pinched at his left nipple. “You get a prize.” The other was treated the same way. The nipple clamps. He knew them well. They'd been one of the first toys they'd bought, ages ago when they'd first been starting out. He didn't think they'd used them in six months or so, been distracted by fancier items, but...

A tongue soothed over pebbled flesh, lapping at nubs that were already starting to throb. Not hurt, just a deep, persistent pressure that felt like it was drawing the desperation along his nerves to cover his whole body, like spreading butter on toast.

Fingers gently touched his, squeezing lightly, then tracing along the edge of the soft cuffs. Checking his blood flow was okay, probably. Kian was good like that. It was one of the reasons Mark trusted him so much, knew he'd never be hurt or abused past what he was prepared to take. His arms were a bit achy but nothing he couldn't handle, and if it got too much he knew Kian would let him go in a moment. It made him want to push harder, almost, see how far he could climb knowing that Kian would always catch him if he fell.

“Would you like anything? Water?”

“I'm okay,” Mark replied. “Thank you.” He bit his lip as he felt the mattress shift.

“Would you like to suck me?”

“Oh... yes.” Mark felt his cock throb. He loved sucking Kian. Adored it. It was like a little moment of power, hearing Kian make noises like everything he was making Mark do was making him lose himself a bit. He tilted his head back slightly, felt knees press the mattress down either side of his shoulders. Gentle fingers brushed over his parted lips.

“Don't bring me off,” Kian directed. The head of his cock touched where his fingers had left. He tasted hot, wasn't all the way to hard. Mark stuck out his tongue, felt the weight of the head tap playfully against his tongue. “That's it.” A hand stroked the curve of his cheek. Mark wanted to grab, wanted to put one hand on Kian's arse, the other on his cock and just yank him in. His hands fisted uselessly above his head, hips beginning to move of his own accord, trying to rub against something that wasn't there.

The feel of Kian on his tongue was brilliant as he pushed in, plump and soft at first before filling out, getting more rigid against his palate while fingers cradled his face.

“That's beautiful,” Kian breathed. “Take a little more for me?” Mark groaned around his mouthful as he felt it brush the back of his throat, swallowing convulsively while he tried to work around it, head tilting to make it easier. “There.” He began to move slowly, thrusting slightly into the hollow of Mark's mouth, only going in halfway or so, just short enough to prevent him suffocating. But oh, Kian was making _sounds_ , his cock hardening a little more until it was stretching his lips wide.

“Nggnnn...” He managed, heard a soft laugh, then there was a hand running down his stomach, moving awkwardly. A growl left his throat when fingers grasped the bottom of the plug and pushed on it lightly, nudging it against his prostate.

“You like that?” Kian sounded breathless. “You feel full, pet?”

He wanted to say yes. He felt so fucking full it was torture, his toes curling as he throbbed in the ring, his pulse beating in his cock, in his nipples, scraping along every nerve. He tilted his head, trying to move his tongue the way Kian liked, heard a happy moan as the first salty trickles of fluid began to paint his mouth.

“Stop.” He moaned his disappointment as Kian withdrew. A kiss brushed his mouth. “You're so hard, love. Do you want to come?”

“Not... not if you don't want me to.” He managed, eyes squeezing shut behind the blindfold. A pleased purr rumbled against his lips. “I'm so...” He whimpered when fingers stroked gently over his groin. “It _hurts_.”

“What can I do to make it better?” A single finger traced up the length of his cock. “Should I fuck you?”

“Ah...!” He gasped when two fingers grasped the head, pinching tight. A chuckle vibrated against his ear. “Kiss me,” he pleaded. “Just kiss me. Please.”

“I'd love to.” A tongue swept over his top lip. “I'm so close, baby. Looking at you like that. All spread out for me.” The tongue traced his bottom lip. “Do you think you can hold off if I come in your arse?” Mark groaned, feeling that image reach his throbbing groin. “Do you think you can hold off if I sit on your cock?”

“If... you want me to.” Mark managed. “I don't know.”

“Oh, love.” Kian's voice was low and kind. “Would you like me to leave you for a little while? Let you calm down?” He laughed softly while Mark whimpered in protest, writhing on the bed. “I think I'll give you a minute.”

“No. I... please...” He sucked in a deep breath. “Water. Can I have water?”

“Of course.” Fingers drifted through his hair, then a straw pressed to his lips. He sucked slowly, not wanting to choke while he was laying on his back. It helped a bit, cold and distracting him from the increasing intensity of the hot pangs of pain/pleasure. The straw left again, he heard the glass land on the table, then felt fingers touch his again. “Your hands are looking a bit red. How you doing?”

“Bit sore.” Mark admitted. “I'm okay.”

“Okay.” Hands massaged under his armpits, stroking around his shoulders. They were aching, but the gentle touches were rubbing feeling back into them, drawing attention from his predicament. Kisses began to move down his chest, teeth scraping when they sucked over his aching nipples. Hands followed them, smoothing over the wet trail left behind, and Mark whimpered when he felt a tongue dip into his navel. “Gonna suck you,” Kian murmured. “Don't come.”

He gulped in a breath, nodded, and a moment later he was crying out as wetness and heat sank down on his cock. Fingers settled into his thighs, framing the area Kian was lavishing attention on.

“Ki...!” He gasped out loud. “Yes...” The ring was still holding him in check and now it _ached_ , like everything was crying out for relief he wasn't allowed to have. And shit, Kian was good, too. Had always been good. A talented tongue teasing every thrumming nerve, every pulsing blood vessel. It caressed, stroked, flickered, played over him while soft, sucking moans vibrated everywhere . He cried out again, glad for the water because he felt like he was about to send his throat raw with the ragged yelps he knew were coming out of his mouth. Everything felt like it was tightening, gathering, like he was unspooling in the torture of Kian's throat.

“Gonna come.” He warned. “Ki... please...”

He pulled off, and Mark felt unseen eyes crawl over his skin, burning a path in their wake. A hand touched the plug gently, nudged at it, and he whimpered, trying to find enough air to focus.

“Deep breath,” Kian instructed. “Hold it.” He did. The mattress rolled as Kian stood up. Fingers traced over his cheek, across his brow. “Don't you dare come, pet, or I'll paddle you until you can't walk for a month.”

That thought didn't help things at all. He let the breath go, sucked another one back in. A kiss touched his cheek.

“I'll be back. Stay there.”

And then footsteps left the room.

“Kian?” He panted, trying not to move lest he lost all control. There was only silence. He lay still, tugging experimentally at the restraints. There was almost no give in them, not enough to do anything with anyway, and he adjusted his feet, trying to lift his arse off the bed. That just shifted things though and he collapsed back, feeling a spreading pool where his impossibly hard cock was leaking against his belly.

It had to be ten minutes later, maybe fifteen, before he heard footsteps come back in, felt a hand press to his forehead. He was a little more in control by then, but no less aroused. He bit his lip, pushing into the touch.

“Who's in charge?”

“You are.” Mark replied promptly. “Always you.”

“Why?”

“Because I trust you. Because I'm yours.” The thought made him shiver.

“Because I love you.” Kian added. Mark nodded. Fingers fiddled with his cuffs and then he was released, his arms flopping numbly down by his sides. The nipple clamps were removed, leaving him hissing as the pressure abated, though the sudden flood of pins and needles into his arms was at least distracting. He shook them carefully, smiling into a gentle kiss that barely brushed his mouth.

Fingers entwined with his, then let go, and Mark was nudged gently. He got the hint, rolling over onto his stomach and crying out when it crushed his erection beneath him. Hands tugged him to his knees and elbows a minute later, relieving the pressure.

“Look at that,” Kian breathed. “You're all stretched out.” Fingers clasped the base of the plug again. “How does it feel?”

“Like...” Mark broke off into a gasp when it was tugged slightly, sending lightning up his spine. “Ki...”

“I asked you a question.”

“Sorry. I...” He swallowed hard, hands clenching into fists when Kian tugged again. “Like being fucked. It feels like being fucked. But not... oh!” He gasped, felt a stronger tug, and then the first bulge was out, widening him momentarily on the way past. A hand soothed gently over his back, encouraging.

“But not what?”

“But not... ah!” The second bulge slipped out. “But not... not moving. Like I'm being fucked and then it's been paused and my... I'm... it's so _hard_ and I'm...” He shuddered, rapidly losing the ability to speak. The last bulge slipped out and then he was empty, feeling fluttering contractions while overworked muscles tried to go back to their old shape.

“There,” Kian murmured. A kiss nipped at his left cheek while fingers unfastened the ring. “Does that feel better?” He garbled a reply as the agonising pressure let go. He wasn't sure if it was worse or better, if not having it constricting him and trying to hold off of his own accord was better than that sharp, firm torture.

Then Kian's tongue slid up the crack of his arse and it didn't really matter.

The tongue was gone a second later, after administering a single teasing lick that was way too much like not nearly enough. A hand gripped his hip, a thumb brushing over his abused hole and tugging on the bottom of it, pulling it taut. He gasped, trying to drive back onto it.

“I'm going to fuck you, pet.” Kian's voice sounded hoarse, wanting. “Going to fuck this tight hole until you make me come. Fill you up. You want it?”

“Yes...” He buried his face in his arms, eyes squeezing shut behind the blindfold he'd been wearing for over an hour.

“What are you going to do?”

“Not come.”

“Very good.” A kiss mouthed over his lower back. “Tell me if you're about to and I'll stop. We don't want to ruin this, do we?” Mark shook his head, bracing himself. “That's it, love.” They both groaned as the head circled him then began to push in. He bit the pillow, trying to muffle the whining cry he knew was coming out of his mouth. It was so fucking smooth, Kian sliding effortlessly in until he was so deep Mark thought he'd go mad or come on the spot without being touched.

“Ohmygod...” He blurted, heard a soft laugh, felt Kian draw back out, scraping on every nerve ending. Then back in, moving fast and hard. Mark saw stars, cried out, and reached underneath to grip himself, trying to slow things down.

“Did I say you could touch?” A hand swatted his away. “No touching."

He cried out again, felt a hand wrap around his balls as the thrusts got harder, faster. Tugging, pulling the focus away a bit while he tried to bite his cries off, tried not to come, tried not to fall apart. A hand slapped down on his arse, squeezing and then lifting away.

“Are you going to come?”

“N... no.” He managed.

“Are you?”

“No,” he gasped, clawing at the sheets, not sure he believed his own words.

“Are you lying to me?”

“No. Kian... please... I...” The hand slapped down on his arse again. He yelped, trying to ignore the fact that Kian's voice was making it worse, feeling the control in his breathless instructions while Mark took it, vulnerable to every ragged thrust. A hand locked on the back of his neck, holding him still while the other one scraped fingernails over the hot, abused skin Kian had just swatted.

“Don't come," Kian growled. “Not until I say.”

“I can't... uh...” He braced himself harder, felt the hand on the back of his neck tighten. Then Kian paused, held still deep within him. Hands slid down, entwined carefully with his while kisses dotted gently up his neck.

“Shhh...” Kian soothed. “Take it slow.” Mark gulped back the tears he hadn't realised were springing to his eyes. “You okay?” He managed a broken sob. “Stop,” Kian whispered, stroking back the hair that was hanging in Mark's face. “It's okay. I've got you.” He moved slightly, making Mark whimper, then kissed his cheek, chin resting on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Mark panted. “I'm fine. I'm...”

“Safeword if you need to,” Kian urged. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

“I'm okay.” He let out a trembling breath that burned in the back of his throat. “Sorry.”

“Okay.” A hand drifted over his side. “Still with me?” Mark nodded. “Because I'm going to fuck you really hard in a second and I need to know you'll be okay.” He gulped, felt a hot rush of arousal at the soft, matter-of-fact words in his ear. He knew he could safeword if he needed, but the fact that Kian never made him get to that point, that he was able to gauge him so well, was his favourite part. Belonging, respect, care.

“Love you, Ki.”

“Love you too,” Kian murmured, shifting. “God, your arse is heaven.” A hand caressed one cheek, then the other. “That's it, darling. Hold still.”

“Yes...” He closed his eyes, already feeling his breath come in slow pants. “Give it to me.”

“Gonna take it from you,” Kian promised, his voice a smirk. “Gonna fuck this tight...” A hand swatted down. “Sexy...” Swatted again. “Hole.” The hand palmed up the small of his back, then down, spreading his knees a little wider. “Oh yes...” he heard Kian mutter. “That's going to be beautiful.” He groaned as a low voice shivered up his spine. “So deep.”

“Please...”

“Do you want it, pet?”

“Yes... please...” His hands fisted in the sheets, bracing himself. “Now. Need you.” He felt himself tense as Kian began to pull out, so slowly, grating over every nerve. A palm soothed the small of his back.

“There we are.” Kian breathed. “Oh darling, you're so open for me.”

“Need it.” Mark gulped. “Please...”

“Shh...” The head was still in, he could feel it. A thumb traced the rim. Tugged gently at overstretched muscle. “Stay still.” He looked his knees, planted his elbows harder. “Don't move a muscle.” He heard. “Stay exactly there. Oh, fuck, look at you...” Mark closed his eyes, shivering at the soft wonder in a rough voice. “I could come just looking.”

Mark wanted to say something. Thank Kian, maybe, for wanting him so much. For the trust and respect and love. The reverence. For the thumb still tracing over him, making every nerve sing with electricity. For the soft kiss he felt brush to the back of his neck, the fingers that entwined with his left hand, squeezing gently.

He couldn't get it out. Not a word. The thumb spread him a little wider, and Kian began to slowly side forward.

“Oh,” he managed, when Kian was in all the way. The fingers in his squeezed. Kian drew back again.

He cried out when it went hard. Too hard. Back in again, hammering fast. No build-up, nothing, just sudden ragged, slamming thrusts.

He fell. Elbows slid, face on the pillow again, grabbing tight and just trying to hold on. He heard Kian growl.

“That's it,” he snarled. Mark sobbed. “That's it. Take it for me.”

His hands clawed at the pillow, Kian's still entangled in the left one. Kian was panting in his ear, hot and harsh, dotted with little growls and moans. Mark arched his back, felt it go deeper. Harder. Heard Kian cry out.

“Kian...” Oh fuck, it _hurt_. Felt amazing. Slamming into his prostate with every thrust. Kian's free hand closed on his hip, holding him still. Mark cried out. Almost a scream. Couldn't help himself. Really hoped the neighbours wouldn't hear. Teeth bit hard into his neck.

“Don't you dare.”

He didn't know how to. Cock bobbing in empty air between his stomach and the sheets. Throbbing harder than he could think, racing along with the pounding of his heart. Needed it. Couldn't. Not while Kian was saying no. No friction. No nothing and he was going _mad._

“That's it,” Kian muttered. Mark moaned, face pressed into the sheets. He was turned, then. The blindfold slipped down, shaken free with their rocking, and when he opened his eyes it was to intense blue ones, devouring him, eating him up while he stared back dazedly, trying to find some way to centre himself against climbing, angry pressure.

A small smile skirted Kian's lips. Sweat trickled down a flushed temple. Mark tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry and he was falling apart.

Kian's mouth claimed his. He whined into the kiss. Sucked desperately. Closed his eyes again and felt the hand in his squeeze, the other one curl in his hair, pulling him in tighter while his hips snapped back into every thrust, wanting to please Kian but not able to help it, his head spinning, everything falling apart.

“Gonna,” he gasped. Kian kissed him harder, cutting off his words.

“No,” he whispered back. Mark whimpered. Buried his face in the pillow again and tried to stop. Kian slammed in again, going faster. “So close, pet,” he panted. “So close. Gonna make me come.”

Mark cried out. Bit the pillow. Tried to hold himself together. The hand in his hair let go, dropped down to palm over his arse. He cried out again when he felt the smack. The sharp, hot slap of a palm on his right cheek. Spanking him harder and faster, in time with every thrust, a drumbeat on his skin, sizzling into his soul.

“Please...”

“Gonna fill you up,” Kian promised. “Take it for me.”

“Yes...!” He grabbed the pillow tighter. Kian's hand. The other one wrapped around his waist, palmed down his belly, and he let out a grunt of surprise when it wrapped around his cock and started to stroke.

“Don't come,” Kian breathed. Mark sobbed. “Don't.”

“Ki...” He felt Kian jerk, then the flood. Heat, sticky and wet, bursting into him, filling him up so suddenly he couldn't catch a breath. Tears were streaking down his face, Kian's hand still moving, and he couldn't. Just couldn't...

He moaned in disappointment when his boyfriend drew slowly out. Flopped into the sheets, crying out when his cock touched soft fabric that seemed rough and cold on over-sensitive flesh. Wriggled his hips without meaning to, trying to get something, trying to rub himself off. Kian was kissing slowly down his neck, breathing heavy.

“You okay?”

“Have to,” he sobbed. “Kian.”

“Safeword and I'll bring you off,” Kian promised. Mark sobbed again. No. He didn't want to. Didn't want to end this like that, with him giving up and Kian doing it out of duty. Wanted Kian to give it to him because he deserved it. Because he'd earned it.

“I can't...” he panted. “Please...”

“Soon,” Kian promised. “So soon.” Mark couldn't stop shaking. Kisses drifted across his shoulder, Kian's free hand soothing down his spine, then back up, stroking him slowly down. The other one wriggled from his grasp, began to push hair back from his face. The blindfold was untied, tossed away. Mark nuzzled into the fingers that caressed his cheek.

“Love you,” Mark croaked.

“Love you too.” A soft kiss brushed his mouth. “Almost there.” Mark nodded. Almost. He could do this. “Kneel up for me.”

He managed it, carefully, arms trembling as he pushed himself to his knees. Painful, balls trapped between his thighs, erection rigid against his belly. Kian knelt in front of him, looking sweet and relaxed from his orgasm. Mark wanted to grab him. Wind fingers into his hair and kiss him, pull him close and feel a tender, careful touch on his skin.

Blue eyes dropped to his predicament.

“Oh,” Kian said softly. “Look at that.”

“Nnng...” Mark closed his eyes, felt cum pool on the sheets behind him where Kian was starting to trickle free, a slow burst of liquid sensation that wasn't helping things in the slightest.

“I said look.”

“Yes.” He opened his eyes. Looked down. Red and pulsing, balls so tight they hurt. It looked painful. Felt worse. Like a shivering raw nerve, trembling when a hand slid up his thigh. He yelped, flinched, saw Kian smile.

“Touch yourself.”

“Yes.” He shivered. Wrapped a hand around himself and tried not to cry out too loudly, whole body recoiling from the feeling.

“You can't bring yourself off, can you? Need me to do it?”

He shook his head. “Need you.”

“I'm telling you to bring yourself off,” Kian urged. “Do it slowly. Let me watch.”

“But...”

“You're going to.” Gentle fingers stroked hair off his forehead. “Come here.” He reached out an arm. Mark shuffled into it, rested his chin on a strong shoulder while Kian's arm wrapped around his waist. “I'm here, pet. Always here for you.” Mark wanted to cry. A tender kiss brushed his cheek. “Slow.”

“Yes.” He began to stroke, slowly, had to bite his lip against the sudden spike of sensation. Had to resist the urge to go fast, knew Kian would stop him and punish him if he did. He wanted the punishment. Wanted to come more. Soft kisses drifted up his jaw.

“Love you,” Kian murmured. “Need you. Want you.” Mark gulped back tears. “Everything to me.” Mark whined softly, arched into his own grip. Felt Kian hold him tighter, safe in a strong arm, the other stroking his neck, trying to soothe him. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Mark breathed. He felt himself jerk, felt himself get closer in his own grip. Kian mouthed at his ear, hot breath and damp fire. He moaned. Whimpered. “Love you.”

Kian smiled. Held him. Pressed their noses together so Mark could look at him, urging blue eyes holding him in their gaze.

“Come,” Kian ordered. “Come, love.”

“Oh...” He shuddered, closed his eyes. Opened them again, needing the connection. Kian tugged him closer, held him tight. “Oh.” He tensed. Felt the hand on his back splay open, guide him. “Oh...”

“Now,” Kian whispered.

“Can't..."

“Can.” The hand on his back dropped. Curled around his arse. “Now.”

He closed his eyes. Concentrated. Felt the tense, the swirl, tried to find the tipping point. Felt Kian, feel the fingers on him, the honesty and guidance. The care and ownership and sweetness.

“Kian...” He felt it start. Opened his eyes, saw Kian staring back at him. All the love in the world, shining out. Felt himself fall, felt the pressure climb so high his head spun.

He cried out.

Spots danced in front of his eyes.

Kian held him all the way down.

 

*

 

“You're going to have to get up eventually,” Kian chuckled.

Mark groaned. He'd been laying here for a bit, dozing happily facedown on the bed. Kian had held him carefully down, wiped him off with a cloth, then lay there beside him, stroking him carefully.

Now he was stood at the foot of the bed while Mark tried to stop his bones being a puddle.

“Leave me. I'm dead.”

“You're fine.” The mattress rolled as Kian climbed on behind him and crawled up, began to kiss the back of his neck, rested over him on hands and knees. Mark purred. Heard a soft laugh. “You were amazing,” Kian said. “So proud of you.”

“Thanks.” He wriggled happily. Fingers kneaded into the back of his neck. “I'll get up soon.”

“Don't worry.” Kian kissed his ear. “How about I make you dinner, and we stay in bed.” That sounded perfect. “You might have to get off so I can change the sheets, though. You bloody erupted at the end there. Could need a shower as well.”

“Want to stay here.”

“Run yourself a bath,” Kian said. “You get in, I'll sort the sheets, and we'll have a cuddle.” Mark nodded. It hadn't been a suggestion. He shivered at the command in gentle words, wishing that wasn't making him harden again. Not that he was going to be capable of anything for a bit. Kian sat up. “Go on.”

Mark shoved himself up with groan, clambered off the bed on shaky legs. A hand slapped his arse. He giggled. Heard Kian laugh. When Mark looked over his shoulder his boyfriend was already stripping the sheets.

“Kian?”

“Yes, pet?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.” He looked up, smiled gently. “Go on, you. I'll be in to check on you in a minute.” He winked. Mark grinned back.

Then he staggered off to the bathroom, feeling a warm glow in his chest when Kian began to hum cheerfully.

 


End file.
